


We Tumble to the Ground and Then You Say

by ErinDarroch, JustineGraham



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VI: Return of the Jedi, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Endor, Ewoks, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Outdoor Sex, Post-Star Wars: Return of the Jedi, ROTJ, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Safe Sane and Consensual, Sentimental, Sex, Smut, sentimental smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-05
Updated: 2016-09-05
Packaged: 2018-08-13 06:35:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7966288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErinDarroch/pseuds/ErinDarroch, https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustineGraham/pseuds/JustineGraham
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Smutty romance. Romantic smut. You get the picture. Han/Leia HSLO HxL foreverrrrr. We do not subscribe to Mickey Mouse canon. <em>TFA</em> never happened.</p><p>This is a post-<em>RotJ</em> one-shot that is a companion to others we’ve written in this era. Each stands alone, but if you prefer to read them in order, see below:</p><p>(1) The Darkest Hour<br/>(2) Truth and Consequences<br/>(3) Always a Thing of Wonder<br/>(4) We Tumble to the Ground...<br/>(5) The Only Constant<br/>(6) Make Mine a Double</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Tumble to the Ground and Then You Say

There was no doubt about it: Leia Organa was _giggling_. Sitting astride Han Solo’s lap with her face buried against his neck and her fingers clutching at his shoulders, she wasn’t just smiling or chuckling in mild amusement—she was helpless with giddy laughter that seemed to bubble up past his ear, sparkling and effervescent, to dissipate into the evening air. Hearing that unfamiliar but thoroughly delightful sound, and laughing heartily along with her as he held her close, Han couldn’t remember ever feeling as perfectly _happy_ as he felt in that moment. 

They were alone on a rocky crag atop one of the Endor moon’s many tall peaks, out of sight and sound from both the nearest Ewok village and the newly established Alliance base, in an out-of-the-way spot they’d discovered and claimed as their own in the aftermath of the Rebels’ victory over the Empire. Finally able to enjoy true seclusion together for the first time since their journey to Bespin, they had whiled away many of their newfound hours of respite in this isolated location, indulging in the things that all lovers do when left alone: talking, teasing and sharing endless unhurried kisses. 

They’d even started taking many of their evening meals together on this high plateau, a fact that hadn’t gone unnoticed by their friends and comrades, although Han was the only one enduring the occasional good-natured, if somewhat bawdy, remarks about their habit of disappearing every evening when everyone else on shift headed off to the base mess hall. Their Alliance colleagues had been laying bets for years on the likely progression of his relationship with Leia, but they were usually careful not to let _her_ overhear them gossiping and speculating. She was one of them, and she’d never hesitated to fight right alongside them, leading dangerous missions and risking her life like everyone else, but she was still a princess, and no one ever forgot that. Han was fair game, though, so he took the brunt of the friendly teasing, and he took it with good grace because, truly, he didn’t give a damn _what_ they thought about it. 

The fact that Leia was apparently happy to stop working at the end of her shift—like a normal person—was a sign of huge progress, as far as Han was concerned. Furthermore, judging by how thin she’d become in the six months he’d been absent, he reckoned eating had fallen very low on her list of priorities, and the slop they served in the mess hall wasn’t going to remedy that any time soon. His solution had been to cajole Chewbacca into sourcing local game and produce, and cooking for them now and then, which the big Wookiee seemed happy enough to do. Chewie was an avid hunter and a great cook, and he seemed to be thoroughly enjoying their time on Endor, where he could sleep high in the treetops every night with the wind in his fur. Han wasn’t above shamelessly taking advantage of his friend’s relief at having him back from the brink of death, either, if it meant enjoying tasty food he didn’t have to cook himself. And he especially relished sharing those meals with Leia. With a glimmer of amusement, Han recalled the previous evening’s dinner, which had ended with his shirt and trousers requiring a cycle in the autovalet, and Leia sheepishly returning her uniform blouse to the quartermaster to replace its entire complement of buttons. They’d packed up early that night and, with his jacket fastened over her blouse to hide its ruined state, they’d made the trek back through the dark woods to carry on their amorous tussles in the bunkroom of the _Falcon_. 

This particular evening seemed to be heading in much the same direction as the last; at least, it certainly _would be_ if Han had anything to say about it. It had begun with a glorious sunset, which they’d enjoyed along with a light meal and a generous amount of fine Corellian wine from the _Falcon_ ’s dwindling stash. Then their leisurely caresses had inevitably led to an extended groping session and even more intense kisses that left them breathless and smiling into each other’s eyes. Now seated comfortably on one of the Falcon’s old blankets, in a mossy dell with his back against the trunk of a colossal peppertree, Han reveled in the feeling of Leia’s warm weight astride his lap, and her bubbling laughter still fizzing against the skin of his throat. With a view over her head of the broad stone plateau that jutted out over the sprawling forest below, and of the star-speckled night sky above, Han sighed in contentment and made his next move. Having effectively distracted her with a ribald story about Chewbacca, too much Thikkiian brandy, and an oversized dancing-girl costume, he managed to get the rest of her uniform top untucked before she stopped laughing and straightened up, fixing him with a look of exaggerated—and slightly inebriated—indignation. 

“I bet you think you’re so _smooth_ , don’t—”

Han silenced her with a kiss, reveling in the feel of her sensuous mouth, and the thrill of her full lips yielding to the teasing advance his tongue. She lifted her hands to cradle his face, and returned his attentions with equal fervor, seeming oblivious to the movements of his fingers as they worked their way nimbly upwards over the buttons on her blouse, popping each one open in turn. By the time their lips parted and Han drew back to offer her a smug smile, he’d succeeded in unbuttoning her shirt completely. Leia stared dazedly at him for a moment, the combination of alcohol and passionate kisses combining to leave her looking a little stunned. Her unbound hair cascaded loosely over her shoulders, giving her a wild appearance that made the blood thrum in Han’s veins. Meeting her gaze and directing it downwards, Han drew her attention to his deft accomplishment. “Smooth?” he said with a hitch of his eyebrows and a little shrug. “I dunno, you tell me.” 

A slow smile spread across Leia’s face as she looked down at her open top. “Pretty slick, Hotshot,” she murmured. Leaning in, she offered her mouth up to his once more, her dark lashes fluttering against her cheeks as their lips met in a kiss that lingered and grew in intensity, simultaneously fueling Han’s longing and short-circuiting his brain. For a moment the rustling of the wind through the trees, the drone of insects and the faint calling of night birds were all lost in the feel of Leia’s hands in his hair, her warm body pressed against his, and the taste of her lips. Her soft moan against his mouth brought him back to his senses. The loosened blouse finally granted free access to her skin, and Han took advantage of it, running his hands up the smooth contours of her back, his fingers lightly skimming over her ribcage and the indentation of her spine, his thumbs playing along the bottom swell of her breasts. Rewarded by her small shudder of pleasure, he indulged himself a bit further, cupping the full weight of her breasts in both palms, teasing the nipples through the thin fabric of her bra to bring them to two taut peaks.

Leia’s hands were doing a little exploring of their own, and Han was intensely aware of his body’s powerful response to the intimate press of her slight frame against his. The tantalizing wriggle of her hips told him she was aware of it as well, and Han decided it was high time they headed back to the privacy of his ship. 

“Let’s call it a night, Sweetheart,” he murmured, running his hands down along her curves to her hips. “I want to get the rest of these clothes off you, and once I get started I don’t wanna stop.” 

“So don’t stop,” she replied softly and guided his hands back up to her breasts, holding his gaze. 

Han didn’t have it in him to resist such a compelling suggestion, especially when she was looking at him with such an open expression of desire. He nudged the panels of her shirt out of the way once more and resumed his fervent caresses, delighting in the way she stretched and sighed as he touched her, and the little sounds she made when his thumbs grazed her stiffened nipples. She felt so warm and soft under his hands, and when she leaned in to capture his mouth with hers and rolled her hips slowly against him, he completely forgot what he’d been saying. He surfaced after a moment, though, and struggled to return to his point. “C’mon, let’s go.” 

“I don’t want to go.” Leia leaned in to place her mouth against his ear. “I want to stay,” she whispered. 

Han sighed, suppressing a pang of disappointment. He’d hoped to relocate to the _Falcon_ sooner rather than later, but he was easily consoled by the certain knowledge that Leia _would_ share his bunk tonight regardless—tonight and every night for the foreseeable future, he reminded himself, feeling a thrill of triumph and a swell of deep satisfaction. After spending years in a kind of slow-motion, unconventional, and often tense and fractious courtship, it was a continual source of astonishment and pleasure to remember that Leia was finally, unequivocally, _his_. He could wait another hour for her, he reckoned, if it came to that. “Alright, no rush,” he said amiably enough. “We can finish that second bottle of wine, and watch for shooting stars.” He pulled the edges of her blouse back together and started to refasten the buttons from the bottom up, then stopped in surprise as Leia covered his hands with hers and shook her head. He met her gaze with a quizzical one of his own. “What?”

“I don’t want to _stop_. I just want to stay here,” she clarified. 

Han stared at her for another moment. “Stay here?” he echoed. He thought perhaps all the blood actually _had_ left his brain, because he wasn’t quite sure he understood her meaning. “You want to….” he glanced down at their bodies, pressed so intimately together, at Leia’s thighs bracketing his hips and the glimpse of her bare belly he could see through the gap in her shirt. He licked his lips and looked back up at her face. 

“Yes,” she affirmed, smiling faintly at his expression. 

He gave a cautious chuckle and said, “I think that’s the wine talkin’, Sweetheart. ‘Cause you can’t be suggesting what it sounds like you’re suggesting.” 

She bit her lower lip and slanted a look at him from under lowered lashes, looking uncharacteristically coquettish—and enormously alluring. “Try me,” she whispered. 

Han felt a surge of desire pulse through him at her words. Never one to back down from a challenge, he ran one hand under her loose shirt and up the slight curve of her back, swiftly found the clasp of her bra and unfastened it with a practiced twist of his fingers. He gave a gratified chuckle at Leia’s involuntary little jerk when she felt the garment loosen. 

“ _Han!_ ” she gasped reflexively, rearing back to stare at him for a moment in genuine surprise. She gave his shoulder a little shove and then broke into helpless laughter again. “Now you’re just showing off,” she admonished, but her dark eyes sparkled with amusement in the dim starlight, their focus mildly blurred by the liberal amount of wine she’d imbibed. 

“I’ve been tryin’ to impress you for _years_ , Princess,” he grinned. “Guess I finally figured out how.”

Leia adopted a haughty expression and arched one eyebrow. “Who says I’m impressed?” 

“You can’t con a con man, Sweetheart. All the signs are there.”

“Is that right?”

“Yeah, that’s right.” 

“Like what?” 

He slipped his hands under her shirt again and loosely encircled her waist, stroking the warm skin there with his thumbs. “Like the fact your body temperature just went up a few degrees….”

Leia rolled her eyes. “What are you, a medical droid now?” 

“And your cheeks are turning pink.” 

“They are _not_. Anyway, it’s too dark out here to see that.” 

Han ignored that assertion. “I heard your breathing change, too. And I feel you trembling….” He ran his hands around the swell of her hips, and then drew his fingers slowly down the length of her outer thighs, noting with interest how she tried to still the quivering of her muscles as he did so. 

“Oh, right,” she said in a tone of ridicule. “I’m _allegedly_ blushing and trembling because I’m impressed—”

“No,” Han grinned. “You’re _actually_ blushing and trembling because you really, really liked that little maneuver, and you can’t _wait_ to find out what I’m gonna do next.” 

Leia sniffed. “Actually,” she corrected, adopting a prim tone, “that little maneuver was rather too fast for my liking. If you really want to impress me, you’ll need to slow down.” 

“ _Slow down_ , huh? Is that the secret?” As he spoke, he slid one hand up to the nape of her neck under her hair and lightly stroked the soft skin there, noting as he did so how she tried to suppress a shiver. Easily spanning the back of her head with his hand, he curved his middle finger and thumb inward to slowly stroke the sensitive skin behind both ears, and then tried not to smirk as he saw her eyes flutter. “Admit it, that last move was pretty smooth.”

Leia was clearly struggling to maintain her focus, whether from the influence of the wine or the effect of his caresses, but she appeared to rally at his words. She straightened up and narrowed her eyes at him. “Maybe so,” she conceded, “but that just makes me think about how you developed that particular skill. Must’ve had lots and lots of practice.” 

Han’s eyebrows climbed as he recognized potentially tricky conversational terrain ahead. “I, uh, practiced on Chewie’s dancing-girl costume,” he quipped, deploying a device that had proved effective at distracting her once before. 

As he’d hoped, Leia stared at him for a second and then burst into laughter again, covering her mouth with one hand and lowering her head in an attempt to stifle the response. Han grinned as he listened to that novel sound for the second time that evening, and decided that making Leia Organa giddy with laughter as often as possible was one of his new life goals. As her mirth subsided and she leaned into him with a sigh, he placed a soft kiss on her temple, then another one on her cheek. “And if you think _that_ move was good…” he murmured, weighting his voice with promise. Sliding his fingers up into her hair, he dipped his head down to trail kisses across the line of her jaw to her ear, pausing to nip at her earlobe, scraping his teeth over the delicate flesh. At the same time, his other hand slipped under the loosened edge of her bra, rubbing the pad of his thumb over a hardened nipple and relishing the feel of her supple body arching into his touch. The rush of her breath was warm against his cheek, and the gratifying sound of her soft moans sent a surge of pleasure racing up his spine. As Leia’s eyes fluttered shut and her head fell back, Han dropped his lips to the offered curve of her throat, peppering her pale skin with soft kisses as he worked his way lower, finally nudging aside the fabric of her blouse to bare the graceful contour of her shoulder to his hungry mouth. 

The slow rock of her hips was generating a delicious friction that threatened to drive him mad. It wouldn’t be long before things progressed past the point of no return, he realized, and the last thing he wanted was for Leia to regret her daring decision and back out at the last minute. Although too steep to scale from the cliff side, and out of visual range of the Ewok watchtowers dotted throughout the forest, he knew their mountaintop location wasn’t completely private. They were still near enough to the newly established Alliance base for ease of access, and anyone traversing the hillside could reach the spot, just as they had. As eager as he was to see this through, he had to ask. “Are you sure about this? Aren’t you worried someone’ll see us?” 

Leia pulled back slightly to meet his gaze. “No one will see us,” she said in a tone of absolute certainty. “There’s no one any closer than two clicks from here. Everyone’s back at the village, or elsewhere.” She waved a hand carelessly over her shoulder to indicate _elsewhere_. 

Han paused in his caresses as he took in that information. He was tempted to ask how she could be so sure, but he already knew the answer to that. She’d confided in him days ago that she was Force-sensitive, like her brother, and that Luke had begun guiding her through the early stages of training her abilities, including the skill of detecting sentient life in her surroundings. Still, the reality of Leia using that mystical power to see things Han couldn’t see was slightly unnerving. His consternation must have shown on his face because Leia erupted in light laughter again and dropped her forehead to his collarbone, trying to compose herself. After a moment, she lifted her head and placed an affectionate kiss on his cheek, then leaned back, her expression sobering somewhat. “You look slightly horrified,” she informed him, and then her expression turned wistful. “Does it bother you so much?”

Han blinked, and stared at her for the split-second it took him to decide his answer. “No, it doesn’t bother me at all,” he assured her. “ _Especially_ if it means you’re about to get naked with me under the stars.”

Leia ducked her head a little and smiled. “I will if _you_ will…” she murmured, giving him another one of those sidelong looks that made Han’s pulse throb. 

He flashed her a shameless grin, edged with a hint of suggestive leer. “You are _on_ , Sweetheart. Just don’t pinch me,” he cautioned in a playful tone, as he reached up to peel the shirt away from her shoulders and down her arms. “Because if I wake up and find out this is all a dream, I’m gonna be really upset.” He tossed her blouse carelessly atop their discarded boots and socks, which were lying in a heap beside the blanket upon which they sat, then returned his attention to the task at hand. He reached for the straps of her bra, but paused as Leia clasped one slim arm across her chest, holding the thin fabric in place. She eyed him for a moment, a trace of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. 

“You’re not dreaming,” she assured him. “And I’ve got a few moves of my own.” Sliding the straps the rest of the way down her arms, she removed the garment with a small flourish and allowed it to fall from her fingers, baring her naked breasts to Han's appreciative gaze. In the deepening twilight, her pale skin was almost luminescent. A cool evening breeze rippled past them, prickling her flesh and causing her nipples to harden as Han stared. Leia gave him a look that said _top that_ , then dropped her head back in gales of laughter as he growled and dived down to explore the new territory with his mouth. 

Keeping one arm braced across her back in support, Han enthusiastically nuzzled and kissed the swell of first one starlit breast and then the other, smiling against her skin as he felt her quiver under his touch. When he dragged his mouth down to suckle lightly on one pert nipple, he heard her groan and felt the reflexive rolling of her hips against his as she arched her back and dug her fingers into his shoulders, drawing a groan from Han as well. He moved his mouth back to her other breast, giving it the same tender attention. Shifting on his seat slightly, he leaned forward, slowly pressing Leia backward and lowering her until she rested on her back between his thighs, her own legs draped over his. She curled her arms above her head and let them rest there, smiling up at him as his eyes roamed her figure.

Han felt his pulse treble as he gazed down at her. She was certainly beautiful; her pale curves glimmered faintly in the starlight, making an appealing contrast to the blanket upon which she lay, and her lovely face was framed by a riot of hair fanned out around her head in dark swirls, bracketed by the graceful arcs of her arms. But the pounding of Han’s heart was due to more than simple lust. The tightness in his chest and the shortness of his breath were caused in part by the look of absolute adoration and trust in her brown eyes. This smiling, playful, sexy woman stretched out before him represented a side of Leia no one else ever saw—or had _ever_ seen—and he was humbled once again by how completely she had invested in him. The fact that she was here with him now, showing him her “moves” and lying half-naked under the night sky, was testament to how much faith she had in him, and how much their relationship had changed. 

It was also a clear reminder of how much Leia herself had transformed since they’d first become sexually involved. Although she was just beginning to find her way in the world of deliberate seduction, she was already doing a masterful job of it, and it was clear she delighted in making him crazy with desire. But Han could read the anticipation in her eyes, and it was obvious she wanted him just as desperately as he wanted her. She’d started this little game of showing off moves, he thought with amusement, and the least he could do was play along. Though he hadn’t yet articulated as much to her, he especially loved her playfulness and the adventurous spirit she was beginning to bring to their encounters, and he wanted to encourage that positive mindset as much as possible. 

“Yeah, that was a pretty good move,” he drawled, letting his gaze linger on her body. “Now, it’s my turn.” Straightening his posture, Han flashed her his best salacious grin before stripping off his own shirt and casting it into the pile with an exaggerated flourish that rivaled hers. Leia struggled to suppress a laugh at his display, before her expression grew more serious, and she reached to run her hands over the newly exposed landscape of his bared chest and the taut muscles of his abdomen. The touch of her hands and the unmistakable look of appreciation in her sparkling eyes stoked Han’s already well-fueled fire of longing. “Your turn,” he prompted, his voice hoarse. “Let’s see what else you can do.”

Leia’s eyes dropped to the front of his trousers and her hands sought the buckle of his belt, but Han batted them lightly away and shook his head. “Uh-uh,” he admonished. “ _You_ first, _then_ me. Those are the rules.”

Leia arched one eyebrow as a slow smile spread across her face. “I think you’re making these up as you go along,” she teased. She kept her dark eyes fixed on his as she drew her legs in, then slowly raised herself up to stand before him. Han saw her cast a glance around at their surroundings, but it was only a quick, reflexive gesture; she seemed fully satisfied that they were alone. Making quick work of the fastenings on her uniform trousers, she then peeled them from her hips, shimmying them down her legs until they were puddled at her feet. Pausing to rest a steadying hand on Han’s bare shoulder, she stepped free of the coarse fabric, giving the trousers a dramatic little kick to land them in the pile, before cocking her hip to one side and planting a hand on it. Now clad only in a tiny pair of white Alliance-issue briefs, with the twilight sky darkening behind her, she met his gaze once more. “Well?” she challenged, lifting her chin. “What are you waiting for? Show me what you got, Flyboy.” Grinning, she dropped her pose and sat back down atop the blanket, then reclined back on her elbows with her bent knees leaning together. 

Han swallowed hard at the sight of Leia so openly beguiling him. The picture she presented was like something out of one of his old fantasies, back when he thought there wasn’t a chance in hell of ever winning her over. He couldn’t help the broad grin that spread across his face, and he felt a new rush of affection for his spirited princess. “Sweetheart,” he chuckled, “There is _no way_ I can beat that. I ain’t even gonna try. But you know what they say: if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.” He rose to his feet, and quickly divested himself of his belt and trousers under Leia’s appreciative gaze then, glancing around at the deserted plateau and the dark woods behind them, he hooked his thumbs in his grey boxers, and cast Leia one more questioning look. “You sure we’re alone, Sweetheart?“ he queried, not waiting for her response before he pulled the garment off and cast it in the pile. “And you’re sure this is what you want?” 

“Oh, yes,” she breathed. Her dark, hooded eyes traveled the length of his body, and Han’s blood thundered in his ears as he watched her drag her lower lip between her teeth, taking in the obvious evidence of his arousal with a look of yearning. 

Han wasn’t certain which of his questions she’d answered with her warm response, but he was long past caring. Their makeshift bed was nestled in a broad mossy dell between two enormous tree roots, and he reckoned they would be out of sight anyway, in the unlikely event that a casual visitor should ascend to the peak at this hour. Leia could keep her Force senses tuned if she wanted to, Han thought, but he would also keep an ear out for more mundane signs of approach, just in case. The last thing he wanted now was for someone to sneak up on them and wreck what promised to be a truly memorable evening. 

Even now, with the warm, breathing embodiment of his fantasies gazing up at him with affection and expectation, Han had a difficult time believing this _wasn’t_ just a spectacular dream. The speed with which recent events had unfolded felt like a whirlwind and, if he thought about it for long, it was enough to send him reeling. Within a span of a just a few weeks, he’d been rescued from his carbonite imprisonment, and freed from the bounty that had hung over his head for years. Then, still recovering from hibernation sickness, he’d spent the short journey from Tatooine to Zastiga in a haze, trying to wrap his mind around the fact that his friends had taken such enormous risks, and endured difficult, unpleasant and decidedly dangerous conditions, just to get him back. He’d lain awake in his bunk every night of that journey, marveling over the fact that he was no longer under immediate threat of death, and that Leia was back in his arms, snuggled against him and sleeping like a rock. It had all seemed too good to be true. 

Then they’d rejoined the Alliance fleet just in time to find themselves on the brink of another major battle, this one ending decisively in their favor, resulting in the takedown of the second Death Star, and the demise of Emperor Palpatine himself, all of which heralded the imminent end of a long and destructive war. And, as if all of that hadn’t been enough to make Han wonder if he were dreaming, he’d listened while Leia shakily disclosed a series of astonishing facts about her personal history: that Luke was her brother—her _twin_ , separated from her at birth—and that their father was none other than Darth Vader. The recollection of Leia’s heart-rending confession of that bitter fact, and the anxiety she’d expressed that Han might reject her for it, was enough to make his chest feel tight. But the unhappy memory faded as he gazed down at her now, seeing how completely she trusted him even in her most vulnerable state. None of that other stuff meant a damn thing to him, he thought fiercely. Nothing else mattered but _this_. 

“Are you going to stand there all night?” Leia teased softly, amusement tingeing her voice. “Come here.” 

Seeing her eyes sweeping over him with a look of longing, and her body language communicating unmistakable invitation, Han needed no further encouragement. Dropping to his knees on the blanket, he tugged impatiently at the last scrap of clothing remaining between them as Leia lifted her hips to aid him. Once she was finally bare before him he crawled between her parted thighs, placing warm kisses on hipbone, belly and breast as he advanced. 

As he came to rest, hovering above her with most of his weight on his forearms, Leia smiled up at him and lifted her hands to touch his face, her fingertips tracing the contours of brow and jaw as her dark eyes drank him in. “I’ve been thinking about this all day,” she confided in a whisper. Squirming a little beneath him to reposition herself, she ran her hands over his chest, then down along his sides, finally sliding lower to draw his hips tightly against hers, encouraging him to rest his weight against her. Once he was firmly cradled between her thighs, she gave a little _mmm_ of satisfaction.

Having spent the better part of an hour indulging in heavy flirtation and increasingly intense kisses, the glorious feeling of Leia’s warm, naked body finally pressed against his was almost overwhelming. Han struggled to maintain a shaky grip on his composure as she hooked her legs around him and pressed her core urgently against the hard ridge of his erection. 

“Alright, Princess,” he rasped, closing his eyes for a moment. “Thought you said you wanted me to slow down.” He opened his eyes again to see that Leia appeared to be thoroughly enjoying exerting her feminine power over him. 

“Yes, well, that was before you took your clothes off,” she pointed out with coy smile. “Now I think you’d better speed it up, Flyboy, before I get ahead of you.” She stretched very deliberately against him once more, and Han felt his self-control beginning to slip away. “And besides,” she said, “I’m getting cold.” She shivered a little to emphasize her claim and clutched him closer, tightening the grip of her thighs around his hips. 

“Being cold is just one of the many hazards of outdoor escapades like this,” Han muttered, trying to distract himself from the enticing little movements she was making beneath him. “That, and getting pine needles in places you don’t want ‘em….” 

“ _I’m_ the one dealing with pine needles in awkward places,” Leia informed him. “This blanket is so thin, I think it must be older than Chewie, and it’s about half as soft.” As she spoke, Leia rubbed her hands slowly up the length of his back and down again, then repeated the motion in a languid stroke that ventured even lower, pressing him between her legs and ramping up Han’s desire tenfold. 

Despite her claims to the contrary, she was incredibly _warm_ , and the rhythmic caresses of her hands, coupled with the way she was arching her back and causing the tips of her breasts to nudge lightly against his chest, was making Han feel rather warm, too. “Getting frisky in the great outdoors was _your_ idea,” he heard himself say, though his brain and his mouth felt very much as if they’d just switched to autopilot. 

Leia laughed, and locked her limbs around him. “Oh, shut up and kiss me,” she breathed. 

Glad to give up on the effort of making conversation, Han obeyed without hesitation, dipping his head down to cover her sensual mouth with his, tracing the curve of her upper lip with tip of his tongue, then nipping at the fullness of her bottom lip. A soft moan escaped her, and he dipped his tongue between her parted lips to slide languidly against hers as she arched reflexively against him and twined her fingers in his hair. She tasted faintly of catabar spice from the meal they’d shared, and rich red wine. Han groaned and deepened the kiss, and Leia responded with warmth, tightening her arms and legs around him, and writhing against him with wanton enthusiasm. They parted on a mutual gasp and Han couldn’t suppress a grin. “We need to get out more often, Princess. All this fresh air’s making you a little _wild_.” 

“Are you complaining?” she queried lightly, stretching up to plant soft, sucking kisses along the line of his jaw, as she curled her bare feet around his legs.

“Sweetheart, this is one thing you will _never_ hear me complain about.” 

Leia smiled knowingly and offered her lips up for another kiss. As he claimed her mouth once more, he felt her shift beneath him and then stiffen, breaking the contact on a muted exclamation of pain. 

“What’s wrong?” Han asked, drawing back to look at her. 

“Pine needles,” she said, wincing a little as she wriggled beneath him, then subsided. “It’s okay now.” 

Han grinned, already beginning to lift his weight off of her. “C’mon, Sweetheart, switch places with me. I’ve got a much tougher—”

“No,” she interrupted, splaying her hands across the small of his back and pulling him down to rest against her once more. Her fingertips fluttered over his skin, their pressure increasing as she smoothed her hands down over his hips to the backs of his thighs, stroking and caressing as she moved lower. “I’ve got you right where I want you,” she murmured.

“Oh...is _this_ where you want me?” Han teased, grinding lightly against her. He was trying very hard to play it cool, as if he could easily do this all night— _no sweat, this is fine, plenty of time_ —but the tantalizing friction between them made him catch his breath, and plunged him one step further towards losing the capacity for conversation. 

“Not quite,” Leia whispered, nudging a hand down between them. She wrapped her hand around him and tilted her hips, guiding him to the soft center of her body. Han hissed a breath through his teeth at the first touch of molten heat, and Leia sighed. “I was thinking…right about... _here_.” 

He entered her slowly, barely able to suppress a guttural moan as he coaxed her open with gentle but insistent pressure. Leia gasped softly beneath him, then drew her knees up and rocked slightly against him, her bare feet pressing down against the back of his legs, drawing him even deeper into incredible warmth and softness as he fought to master the overwhelming impulse to unleash the full strength of his passion. _Slow down_ , she’d said, so he held himself in check, trying to give her body a moment to adjust to his presence. He was suddenly aware of his own breathing, now growing shallow and harsh as he struggled against his keen instinct to move.

But Leia now seemed to be past the point of wanting to go slow. She arched her back and lifted her hips, urging him to begin moving as she skimmed her palms over the muscles of his back and hips, and then gripped him hard, meeting his first careful strokes with fluid movements of her own that drove him deeper, and deeper still. Han shuddered and burrowed his head against her shoulder, feeling immediately and completely lost in ecstasy as Leia’s lithe form surged up to meet his increasingly powerful thrusts, her tiny sounds of exertion and pleasure filling his ears. Her hands seemed to be touching him everywhere, gripping his hips as he moved, and then roaming up his sides and around his heaving ribcage, over his shoulders and into his hair. She moaned and tipped her head back as Han changed his rhythm, trying to slow things down. The sensation of slick heat and the feeling of her firm body yielding to him over and over again was too intense, and she was setting a fervent tempo that he knew would finish him in record time if he didn’t take control.

In an effort to restrain himself, he lifted his head and wrenched his focus away from where their bodies were so delectably joined, concentrating instead on Leia’s face. She was never more beautiful than when he was making love to her, he thought, and that was never more true than here, under the stars. Even in the dim light he could see that she was flushed and panting, her eyes half-closed, dark and dreamy. She gazed up at him and reached to stroke his cheek, and he bent to kiss her deeply, captivated by the touch of her plush lips, the deft stroke of her tongue against his, and the feeling of her tight body entirely enveloping him in warmth. Breaking the kiss, he made a slight change to his position, shifting most of his weight to one side and freeing one arm to pull Leia with him. They tilted, and Leia hitched a knee up around his hip, keeping their bodies aligned as she wound her arms around his neck. With one hand now pressed against the small of her back, Han slowed his pace a little more, settling into a more leisurely—and altogether more manageable—rhythm that nevertheless drew soft moans from Leia as they moved together. He closed his eyes for a moment, concentrating on sensation. She was exquisite; lissome but strong, with an edge of muscle under her soft skin that he could feel bunching and flexing against him as she moved. She kept her body pressed tight to his, covering his throat with open-mouthed kisses, with one arm wrapped around his neck for support, and the fingers of her other hand tangled in his hair.

All around them the Endor night closed in, cloaking them in darkness and enfolding them in the rich scents of the forest: crushed leaves, pungent moss and the pervasive smell of evergreens. The woodlands behind them were alive now with the droning and chirring of a million insects, punctuated by the rustle of foliage and the occasional chitter of some small nocturnal creature scurrying away into the shadowed undergrowth. Above it all, the sough of the wind in the leaves and the creaking of enormous tree limbs further emphasized to Han the slightly surreal, too-good-to-be true quality of the moment.

Fleetingly, he considered the fact that he was _actually_ naked with Leia in the open air, making love with nothing above them but the stars in the vaulted sky. He’d indulged in his fair share of fantasies about her over the years—even this one—long before they’d acted on their mutual attraction to one another, but nothing in his unbridled imagination could compare to the reality. He’d never dreamed she would consent to such an encounter, much less instigate it, and he wondered briefly what had prompted her decision. As that thought flickered through his mind, Leia gave a little sigh of satisfaction. 

“I’ve wanted to do this for _so long_ ….” she murmured, threading her fingers through his hair.

Surprised by how closely her words seemed to relate to his own thoughts, it took Han a moment to process that she’d actually spoken them aloud, and a moment longer to understand the implication. “What do you mean? Us, outdoors?”

Leia nodded in affirmation, her hips still writhing slowly in delicious counterpoint to Han’s own movements. She stretched up to press her mouth to his neck once more, intent upon laying a trail of scorching kisses from his collarbone up to his ear. 

“Since when?” he queried, tilting his jaw up to give her lips better access. He was intrigued by her comment. In their short history together as a couple, Leia had proved to be far more inclined to action than to conversation in the bedroom, and he’d never heard her say anything about a particular sexual fantasy or goal.

For a split-second, Leia froze in place, her breath hitching in his ear. It was the briefest of pauses, and then she resumed her caresses, mumbling an incoherent answer against his jaw. 

“Hang on a minute,” Han said in a tone of wonder. Realizing that Leia had let slip an admission she hadn’t intended to make, he seized on the opportunity to learn something new about the inner workings of her mind—if only as a means to slow things down and rein in his escalating ardor. Despite their present intimate circumstances, it sounded like a piece of information far too compelling to let pass. “ _Since when_ , Leia?” he persisted. Dipping his head down to catch her eye, he felt her halt her movements, and then she lifted her gaze to his. As a look of chagrin crept across her pretty face, he noted with satisfaction that his instincts had been correct, and he struggled mightily to control his expression. He knew it wouldn’t be wise to break into a triumphant grin—not yet, anyway. “C’mon, tell me,” he cajoled. Though he couldn’t see her blush, he could certainly feel the heat rising in her skin. She squirmed a bit under the intensity of his gaze, the slight movement of her hips sending frissons of pleasure coursing up the length of his spine. “Ahhh... _don’t move_ ,” he entreated. Pressing his hand against the small of her back to still her motion, he drew back slightly, trying to see her face in the dim starlight. 

Leia narrowed her eyes at him, as if she knew exactly how he was going to respond, but she gave a defiant little lift of her chin and answered him nevertheless. “Since Serricci.” 

“Since _Serricci?_ ” Han squawked, then broke into hearty laughter. He had to tighten his grip on Leia as she growled and squirmed against him, batting her palms against his back and shoulders in mock anger. But he couldn’t help himself. The jungle planet of Serricci had been the location of the very first Alliance base they’d relocated to after the Battle of Yavin— _years ago_ , Han exulted—long before Leia had given him any serious reason to believe she returned his interest.

“Serricci! I _knew_ it,” he gloated. “If you’d just admitted you were crazy about me way back then, we could’ve saved ourselves a lot of time and effort, you know.”

“Hardly,” Leia scoffed. “You were insufferable back then. I couldn’t possibly have said anything of the sort.” 

“Well, maybe if you’d at least told me you were daydreaming about getting naked with me in the great outdoors,” he said, underscoring his words with a deliberately slow flexing of his hips, “I’d have been a little less _insufferable_.” 

Leia groaned with pleasure and stretched against him, still half-heartedly trying to feign annoyance at his teasing. He could see the smile playing at the corner of her mouth, though. “You’re missing the point, Laserbrain,” she informed him. “You had to stop being such an ass _before_ I could ever dream of telling you anything like that.” 

Han chuckled again, acknowledging the truth of her words. He hadn’t exactly been the model of gracious behavior in the earliest days of their acquaintance. “Ah well, I’m glad we worked it out in the end, Sweetheart. But I need to know details of this Serricci fantasy of yours—like when did it start?” 

Leia demurred. “It wasn’t a _fantasy_ , exactly. More like...an overactive imagination.”

“I bet you started _imagining_ right around the time you stopped by the landing field after I ruptured that hydraulic damper line and had to strip down to my shorts and sluice off,” he smirked. “I saw you staring. You couldn’t keep your eyes off me.” 

“Oh, gods,” Leia gave an exaggerated groan.

“Or I guess it could’ve been that time we got paired up in combat training and I let you pin me to the ground,” he winked. “You gotta admit, that was pretty hot. I know I’ve been thinking about it ever since.”

“Oh, you _let_ me pin you?” Leia sputtered, giving his shoulder a little punch. “See? You’re _still_ insufferable, Han!” 

“Really?” With an impish grin, his eyes swept the length of their entwined bodies. “Because you seem to be tolerating me _just fine_ right now.” 

“Well,” Leia drawled, lifting her eyes to scan the dark sky over his shoulder for a moment before meeting his gaze once more. “That’s only because you look especially attractive at the moment, with the stars above your head.” She gave a languid little roll of her hips and smiled with satisfaction at Han’s involuntary groan. 

“ _And_ because you’re crazy about me,” he reminded her, running a hand down the length of her thigh, then hitching it a little higher over his hip.

Leia rolled her eyes. “You know...when I imagined this years ago, you didn’t talk _nearly_ as much.” 

He smirked and pressed a firm kiss to her lips. “Alright, Princess. I’m done talkin’...” 

“Good. Now where were—oh!” Leia gasped as Han made good on his assertion, drawing his hips back slightly, then driving deeply with a powerful forward motion that made her clutch at his shoulders and gasp again. “Oh,” she whispered fiercely, digging her fingers into the muscles of his arms. “Yes....” And then Leia seemed to be done with talking, too. 

Stretching up, she captured his mouth in a fiery kiss that made Han’s whole body thrum and burn. That kiss melted into another, and then another, as their bodies shifted together into an ancient, slow, driving rhythm. Han lifted one hand to cup her breast and began to stroke gently in counterpoint to the movements of his hips and the stroke of his tongue, lightly tweaking her stiffened nipple between thumb and forefinger, and smiling against her mouth as he felt a hot flush rising in the skin under his palms. Within moments she was writhing against him again, holding him close as he moved within her tight embrace, and meeting his thrusts with little thrusts of her own, a series of breathless moans punctuating the apex of each powerful stroke.

Hearing those erotic sounds and feeling Leia tightening around him, Han emitted a low moan of his own and rolled her onto her back, pinning her lightly against the blanket and losing himself for an age in the exquisite pleasure of velvet heat and softness. What little restraint he had left swiftly abandoned him a few moments later when Leia grabbed his shoulders, tucked her knees up and locked her ankles around the small of his back, driving him deeper. 

Lifting his head for a moment to gaze down at her, Han saw that she was illuminated by silver starlight, her face aglow with pleasure and exertion, with a slightly distracted look that he recognized and adored. Her mouth was open slightly and her dark eyes looked hazy and unfocused, as if they were fixed on something on a higher plane, or breathlessly anticipating the approach of something marvelous. She clutched his shoulders, urging him on with a gasp of his name and the faintest of pleading whispers. 

Knowing precisely what she needed from him as her breathing grew short and increasingly harsh, Han buried his head beside hers and continued his steady, sliding rhythm, feeling her grow impossibly tight and hot around him just before her hips arced up and her whole body tensed. He felt himself engulfed in liquid heat as the first wave of her release washed over him, the quivering of her hips and thighs sending arcs of pleasure up his spine as she undulated beneath him and moaned. His rhythm broke then as his body took over, mindlessly seeking its own release. It came a few moments later in a blinding rush, obliterating all remaining thought in a white-hot flash of intense sensation that drew a rough groan from his own throat. The languid, diminishing movements of Leia’s hips wrung the last of his energy from him and he collapsed, angling slightly to one side to avoid crushing her, as he waited for his chest to stop heaving. 

When the hammering beat of his heart finally slowed and he felt capable of movement once more, Han shifted his weight to break their union, then settled alongside Leia with a sigh of deep satisfaction, stretching out on his side with one arm tucked under his head. He studied her for a moment in contented amazement, watching the rapid rise and fall of her chest as she fought to catch her breath, and marveling all over again at the fact she’d initiated such an audacious encounter. She truly was a vision straight out of his bygone fantasies, lying on her back with one arm draped across her forehead and the other hand splayed over the trembling plane of her abdomen, panting lightly as she stared up at the stars. Her hair was a wild, tumbling mass about her shoulders, and she was bathed in a fine sheen of perspiration, making her pale skin appear to glow in the starlight. Han swallowed hard, suddenly overcome by a rush of love for her. Wordlessly, he reached for the hand resting on her abdomen and entwined their fingers, giving them a light squeeze before angling his gaze skyward to the glimmering array of stars above their heads. With the slowing of his own pounding heart and the calming of his breath, Han became aware of the reverberations of the night forest creeping back into the stunned silence that had fallen between them, filling the air around them with soothing sounds that lulled them both into a state of tranquil bliss. 

“That was…wow,” Leia said at length, rolling her head to the side to contemplate him with wide-eyed wonderment. Still slightly breathless, she gave him a happy smile, the flash of her teeth gleaming in the dim starlight. 

Han laughed, delighted with her heartfelt—if somewhat inarticulate—praise. “I thought it was pretty ‘wow’, too, Sweetheart.” Releasing her hand, he shifted up onto one elbow and leaned over her, holding her gaze. “About as ‘wow’ as it gets.” Resting a hand on her bare belly, he leaned down to press his lips to hers. As they parted and Han began to pull away, Leia reached up and drew him gently back for another lingering kiss. “I love you,” she whispered, her dark eyes scanning his face as he lifted his head. 

Han gazed down at her, a tender smile lifting one corner of his mouth. “ _Lau ni vellin, aki_ , Leia,” he murmured, and felt his smile broaden in anticipation of her reaction. He’d been waiting for the ideal opportunity to use the Alderaani phrase, and this moment seemed to be perfect. He wasn’t entirely certain what response his words would elicit, but Leia’s initial expression of shock gave way to a whole series of emotions that flickered rapidly across her features, running the gamut from puzzled astonishment to stark confusion to amazed delight. Then her delicate chin quivered slightly and she bit her lower lip to still it, her dark eyes shining. Too late, Han realized that hearing her native tongue spoken so unexpectedly after so long might not necessarily be a _good_ thing, as far as Leia was concerned. His dismay must have shown on his face, though, because Leia broke into a watery smile and reached up to lay one hand lovingly against his cheek. Han reached a hand up to cover hers, then angled his face slightly to brush a kiss across her palm. 

Leia’s smile widened. “You keep surprising me, Flyboy,” she murmured. “Where did you learn that?” 

“Threepio,” Han replied, feeling a touch of relief that Leia did indeed seem moved by his gesture, rather than distressed; until he’d seen her eyes misting with tears, it hadn’t occurred to him that his little surprise had the potential to backfire horribly. Keeping her hand clasped in his, he settled down more comfortably on one elbow, propping his head up on one fist. 

Leia’s eyebrows rose and she shifted onto her side to face him, mirroring his posture with her head supported on one palm, keeping the fingers of her other hand entwined with his on the blanket between them. “You asked _Threepio_ for help?” she queried in a dubious tone.

Han shrugged one shoulder. “You insist on keeping him around,” he grumbled. “I finally found a good use for him.” 

Leia’s grip on his hand tightened and her eyes crinkled up in a warm smile. “Now I _am_ impressed,” she quipped, then leaned in to press a sweet kiss to his lips. Settling back on her elbow, she asked, “So, how do I say it in Corellian, then?” 

Han raked a lascivious gaze down the length of her body, lifted his eyes to hers once more and gave her a lewd wink. “You just did, Sweetheart.” 

She rolled her eyes and made a scoffing sound, though he could see the twitch of a smile at the corner of her lips. “Be serious,” she admonished. 

“I am serious,” Han insisted, grinning. “ _This_ is the language of my people.” 

She opened her mouth to reply, then stopped short as the distant crack of a snapping twig and the sudden rustle of heavy movement in the undergrowth roughly thirty meters away reached their ears. Leia stifled a little yelp of alarm, then twisted around to make a grab for her clothes, muttering Corellian curses under her breath. She’d learned _those_ words from Han a long time ago. 

“Thought you said we were alone,” Han commented, calmly sitting up to help her sift through the jumbled pile at the blanket’s edge. In the dim light, they had to rely on texture and size to identify their clothes. Knowing they were protected from immediate discovery by the sheltering height of the giant tree roots to either side of them, Han couldn’t help chuckling in amusement at their predicament. “So much for the power of the Force, eh, Sweetheart?” 

“Oh, shut up,” Leia fired back, shoving an arm through one sleeve of her uniform top and then reaching around for the other. “I was... _distracted_.” In her haste, she struggled to capture the flapping edge of her shirt, so Han reached to help her, holding the fabric out so she could insert her other arm. Shrugging the blouse on over her shoulders, she whipped the edges together and started fastening the buttons with trembling fingers. 

“Distracted?” Han’s chuckle deepened into a low belly laugh. “I’ll say.”

“Han,” Leia’s voice was a dire warning, and the glare she shot in his direction was another.

But before she could tell him exactly what was going to happen to him if he didn’t stop laughing, they both heard the muted but unmistakable sounds of Ewok voices in conversation, drifting through the night air from the edge of the shadowed forest. Han sobered slightly and listened, concentrating. There were two or three of them, he thought, probably a hunting party from the nearby village looking for a place to rest or to take advantage of the bright starlight, which was nevertheless too faint to penetrate the dense tree cover. In any case, the creatures seemed oblivious to the presence of the two humans as they approached the rocky precipice. 

Glancing down beside him, Han saw that Leia was on her back now, her uniform top half buttoned, yanking her underwear up her legs as quickly as she could manage. She cast a pleading glance up at him, and he realized somewhat belatedly that she was genuinely distressed at the idea of getting caught in such an intimate situation. 

“Okay, Sweetheart,” he soothed, giving her knee a reassuring pat. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it. Just stay low and they’ll never know you’re here.” 

Without waiting for her response, Han stood up, heedless of the fact he hadn’t yet managed to don any of his own clothes. The top of the tree root came to about the height of his navel, affording him some cover, but he thought it would nevertheless be perfectly obvious to any observer what he was doing out in the woods with his clothes off. He just hoped they wouldn’t come close enough to see who he was doing it with. Facing in the direction from which the chittering voices could still be heard, he braced his hands on his hips and waited, watching the treeline. 

“What’s happening?” Leia hissed from below as she frantically ransacked the pile of clothes, looking for her trousers. “Who is it?” 

“Just a couple of hunters, I think. Hang on.” 

Within moments, he spotted the telltale swaying of saplings along the shadowed verge, and then the first of the Ewoks emerged from the lush foliage, shoving aside long fronds of ferny bracken with the pointed end of a long spear and one stubby arm. Two more of the furred creatures followed, all three of them seemingly engrossed in muffled conversation as they made for the broad starlit plateau of rock overhanging the darkened valley below. For a moment, Han thought they were going to overlook him entirely and he wavered, toying with the idea of just ducking back down in hopes that they wouldn’t venture any closer. As he debated over that decision, however, the hindmost of the three visitors spotted him. Uttering a sharp bark, he then gestured and chittered excitedly to his companions, who turned their fuzzy heads in Han’s direction. The other two gave exaggerated little hops backward, expressing alarm and agitation, then the foremost Ewok started waddling in Han’s direction. 

“Hey, hey, hey, _whoa_ ,” Han called, holding up a warning hand, then leveling his index finger at the approaching native. “Stay right there, pal.” 

The leader, a chubby fellow with mottled dark fur, paused for a moment and cocked his head to one side as if struggling to attach meaning to Han’s signals. His companions—one whose pale fur was long and shaggy, and the other a rotund specimen with contrasting stripes—moved forward to stand alongside him, and then the three of them put their heads together, seeming to confer. The leader gestured with his spear at Han, and then back over his shoulder towards the distant village, uttering a string of indecipherable vocalizations to accompany his movements. 

“What are they doing, Han?” Leia’s soft voice drifted up to his ears, sounding strained. 

Han spared a glance down to see how she was faring. She’d found her socks, apparently, and now seemed to be battling to get her trousers turned the right way around. 

“My Ewokese is a little rusty,” he shrugged, turning his attention back to the Ewoks. “If I had to guess, I’d say they’re deciding whether to club me or congratulate me.” 

“ _Congratulate_ you?” Leia echoed in choked whisper, sounding simultaneously outraged and scandalized. “Don’t be ridiculous. They probably have no idea what you’re doing here.” 

Han rocked his head down to give her a dubious look. “Sweetheart, they may be primitive, but they ain’t ignorant.” He quirked up half of his face in a knowing smile. “Trust me, they’ve figured it out.”

“Well, get rid of them!”

“Whaddaya think I’m trying to do?” he asked her, turning back to face their visitors. With some alarm, he saw that the Ewoks had taken advantage of his momentary distraction to resume their advance, and they were still in motion, waddling now within fifteen meters of Han’s position with their peculiar rolling gait. There was no suggestion of hostility; indeed, they seemed to be continuing their casual chatter interspersed with what Han was fairly certain were chuckles of amusement. Ordinarily, he was a quick study when it came to picking up languages, even some of the more complex, guttural or animalistic alien tongues—he understood Shyriiwook, after all—but he hadn’t had enough time yet to pick up much Ewokese. And there was no time now to waste on polite conversation anyway, if he wanted to stop them coming close enough to identify his companion. Even in the relative darkness, they were bound to recognize Leia on sight. Without pausing to consider the matter further, he moved quickly along the diminishing length of the gigantic tree root and away from the little dell where Leia was hidden. When he reached a low-enough point, he braced his hands atop the root and scrambled lightly over the barrier, then moved at an angle to place himself between the advancing natives and the princess, grimacing a little as his bare feet crunched over dry leaves, pine needles and twigs. 

_[*Kush chaa?*]_ queried the shaggiest of the three Ewoks, cocking his head and directing his question at the leader of the trio, as he motioned with his spear towards Han.

 _[*Dee fratta ta jeerota Choo-ba-ka*]_ , the leader replied. 

Han blinked. “Chewbacca?” he echoed. He thought he’d caught the word _friend_ somewhere in that string of gibberish, too, and latched onto it. “Yeah, yeah, I’m a friend of Chewbacca’s,” he said, then cocked both thumbs back at his own chest. “Han Solo.” 

All three furry heads nodded vigorously and there was more excited chatter and gesturing, and again what sounded like laughter. Apparently, the other two Ewoks recognized him even without his usual attire—or indeed, without any attire at all. The leader gestured towards Han and then peered around him, as if looking for someone else. Looking back up at Han with his tiny black eyes twinkling, he made an obvious effort to enunciate and said, _[*Pin-chess?*]_

Han winced, but there was nothing for it. Evidently, his close association with Leia was already quite well known in Ewok circles. “Yeah, yeah. The princess is...uh...not receiving visitors right now, buddy. So, why don’t you three just move along, huh?” He made shooing gestures with his hands and pointed an outstretched finger back towards the tramped section of foliage through which they’d emerged. 

The three Ewoks eyed him amiably for a moment, then exchanged knowing glances with each other. 

_[*Pin-chess eki Solo reh rehluu nuv-nuv*]_ , said the native with the stripes, and the other two broke into hearty peals of laughter.

“Alright, alright,” Han groused, guessing at the meaning behind the comment. “Get lost, will ya?” He edged forward, still making shooing gestures and completely forgetting about the fact that he was unclothed until he heard Leia delicately clear her throat behind him. 

Glancing around, he saw with some surprise that she had arisen from the hidden dell and was standing in full view of the Ewoks, albeit still on the other side of the high tree root. Her uniform top was neatly buttoned, and she’d even smoothed her hair back and gathered it into a loose knot at the nape of her neck. In her outstretched hand, she held Han’s shirt and trousers wound up into a tight ball. Han gave a lift of his chin in acknowledgement and she tossed the bundle to him. Evidently, she’d heard the Ewok’s speculative query and decided there was no point in trying to remain concealed. As Han started pulling on his trousers, she made her way out from behind the bulky root, veered around Han’s position and entered into the midst of the small band of Ewoks, then began to speak with them in a curious mix of Ewokese and Basic. Han was reminded that Leia, aided by Threepio, had quickly attained a working knowledge of the language in her negotiations with the furry natives, and as such she seemed to be able to carry on a passable exchange with relative ease. As they spoke, she walked with them and gently directed them back towards the thicket. 

Han pulled his shirt on over his head and started tucking the hem into the waistband of his trousers. Then, as the party reached the treeline, he saw the Ewoks turn back to face in his direction. One of them extended and leveled his spear directly at Han as he spoke, and the other two natives burst into raucous laughter, rocking back on their stubby legs and holding their round bellies in mirth. Even from a distance, Han could see the scandalized look on Leia’s face as she covered her mouth with one hand, clearly trying to stifle her own laughter. Quickly composing herself, she shushed the three natives and steered them back towards the forest, offering each of the three a polite nod in parting. Han watched each Ewok offer a slight bow in return, before ducking under the swaying fronds of fern and disappearing back into the dense undergrowth, still chuckling.

Leia turned and made her way back towards Han, and together they returned to the dell where their rumpled blanket and assorted belongings still lay scattered atop the bed of moss. “They're heading back to the village now,” she assured him, reaching down to retrieve his belt and then handing it to him. “They won't be back.” She leaned one hip against the nearby tree root and folded her arms. She’d managed to fully dress herself, boots and all, while Han was busy fending off the Ewoks.

“There seemed to be a lot of chatter going on there,” he commented, threading the belt through the loops in his trousers. “What else did they say?”

“They were very gracious, actually. I asked them to keep this little encounter to themselves and they agreed. They also apologized for the intrusion, and offered to point out a few more _sheltered_ options, for future.” She cast a winsome smile in his direction. “Despite appearances, they’re really a very affectionate and considerate species.”

“Not to mention _curious_ , and a little bit lacking in good manners,” Han grumbled as he fastened his belt. “Well, I hope I didn't shock ‘em too much when I tried to head ‘em off,” he said dryly. “Not like I had time to get dressed.”

“I wouldn’t say you _shocked_ them, exactly,” she commented. “And their culture around such things is quite a bit different from ours.” 

“Well, why did they all laugh when Stripey pointed his spear over here?” Han wanted to know. “Did he say something about me?”

Leia slanted an amused look at him, then allowed her eyes to scan slowly down the length of his body, before meeting his gaze again. “Nothing you don’t already know.” 

Han grinned broadly at that, while Leia rolled her eyes and then knelt to gather up their scattered belongings, packing them into the faded canvas satchel they’d brought with them. Han sank to a crouch, wincing slightly at the sharp prick of pine needles under his bare feet, and gathered up the threadbare grey blanket. After cramming it atop the other items, he flipped the bag closed and set it against the gnarled root of the tree before stepping over to retrieve his socks and boots. Bracing his back against the roughened bark, he brushed off a bare foot and shook the litterfall from one sock before tugging it on, followed by his boot. In the midst of pulling on the second boot, he looked up to find Leia leaning against the colossal root as well, regarding him with a somewhat downcast, rueful expression.

“What?” he asked. Drawing up to his full height, he took a step and reached for her, grasping her gently by the shoulders and gazing down at her with mild confusion. “What’s wrong?”

Leia lowered her eyes, her pursed lips skewing off to one side as she gave a little shrug of embarrassment. “That was all my fault, Han. I should have sensed them arriving long before they did.” She sighed. “I still have a lot to learn—and a lot of work to do—if I want to master my...abilities. I’m sorry.” 

Hearing the explanation for her dispirited appearance, Han relaxed and drew her closer into his embrace. She leaned against his chest and slipped her arms around his waist. 

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” he murmured into her hair. “Nobody can be at the top of their game _all_ the time, and you’re just getting started with that mumbo-jumbo.” He dipped his head down to catch her eye and flashed her a mischievous grin. “Besides, _it's my job_ to distract you. If you enjoyed yourself so much it knocked your long-range sensors offline, I must’ve been doing something right.” 

She leaned back a little and looked up at him, biting her lip against a smile and shaking her head. “You’re incorrigible.” 

“You bet I am,” Han admitted proudly. “Incorrigible. Insufferable. And all yours, Sweetheart.”

She unleashed a broad smile then and stretched up to offer him a kiss. Drawing away, she caressed his jaw with her fingertips and asked, “Ready to go home?” A gust of cool breeze sent tendrils of hair swirling around her face as they escaped the loose binding at the nape of her neck.

“Home?” Han echoed blankly, distracted by how radiant her pale skin looked by the light of the stars, and by the fathomless depths of her dark eyes. He smoothed the strands of hair back from her face and brushed a kiss across her forehead.

Leia shrugged. “Well, you know, back to the _Falcon_ ….”

“ _Home_ , huh?” Han repeated, unable to hide a smile. “Never thought I’d hear you say something like that about my ship. In the past five days you’ve called her a ‘bucket of bolts’ _at least_ twice,” he reminded her.

Leia gave him a wry look. “She _is_ a bucket of bolts, Han, but she’s yours, and I’ve grown rather fond of her, too.” She shivered a little and burrowed further into his embrace to escape the rising night wind. “Besides, the _Falcon_ does feel like home to me. I feel... _safe_ there.”

Han felt an unexpected rush of pleasure at Leia’s words. Before hearing her say it aloud, he hadn’t realized just how much he wanted that sentiment to be true. Although the void left behind by the destruction of her homeworld and the loss of her people could never be filled, the knowledge that she'd found a haven within the confines of his ship, a place she could think of as _home_ , was deeply gratifying. The emptiness would always be there, he knew, and while he couldn’t change that bitter fact, he could perhaps give her something else. That thought made him hold her a little tighter and press a kiss into her hair. She returned the show of affection, melting against him and releasing a deep sigh, and Han felt his heart give that little jolt it always did. She felt so warm, so soft, and the way she burrowed her face into the curve of his neck made him feel strong, and wanted, and loved. He dropped another kiss on the top of her head. 

“Well, what are we waiting for, Sweetheart?” he murmured. “Let’s go home.”

**The End**

**Author's Note:**

> The base on Serricci is a construction of Sue Zahn’s, featured in her _Kismet_ series. We just borrowed it....


End file.
